“Levinson! Help me pull him up,” Adam ordered.
Levinson stepped inside and grabbed Cavanah’s right side as Adam grabbed his left. They both pulled him up as the screwdrivers slid out of his flesh and he gave out a groan. They moved him over and put him on his back. His front was covered in dirt and the upper chest and shoulders were covered in blood. Adam looked at the blood on the ground, then on the tips and shanks of the screwdrivers.
“Son of a bitch buried screwdrivers in the ground,” Adam told them. “You guys keep an eye out! Alright, let’s look at ya.”
Adam and Levinson pulled Cavanah’s shirt up to look at his wounds. They were bloody but small. Adam looked closer and determined that the wound above Cavanah’s right breast missed his lungs. They needed to stop the bleeding, but Adam didn’t know with what. He couldn’t remember, or didn’t know, either way, so he asked Travers. “Hey, Travers? You didn’t happen to bring that first aid kit or bandages with you, did you?”
“No, left them on the trunk of the car.”
“Fuck.”
“Just put dirt on it,” Cavanah said, lying on the ground.
“What?” Adam asked.
“Fill them with dirt, it’ll stop the bleeding.”
“And the dirt well cause an infection that will kill you.”
“No, it won’t. People did that all the time back in the day. Besides, it’s only temporary,” Cavanah told him.
“You watch too many fucking westerns,” Adam told him and then grabbed a hand full of dirt. “You ready?”
“Yeah, do it.”
Adam then shoved the dirt in the shoulder wound as Cavanah grimaced, and then did the second wound. Once it was done, Cavanah lay on the ground panting.
Cavanah continued to lay on the ground with Adam standing above him; Lewis had made his way around the tractor to the other end of the barn where another sliding door was. Just out of curiosity, he grabbed the door and pushed it open. Adam turned to look in that direction after he heard the door opening. He looked up and saw a pitchfork tied to a string hanging above the door and yelled, “Lewis, stop! Move!”
Lewis stopped and happened to look up just in time to see the pitchfork come loose. He stepped back quickly as the pitchfork fell straight down in front of him, narrowly missing, and stuck in the ground. He looked over at the bottom of the door, saw a small ripsaw clamped to the door, and a now cut string where the saw had cut it as the door opened. The string was staked to the ground next to the door and ran up the wall and then over through the rafters.
“What the fuck was that!?” Lewis screamed.
“Another trap,” Adam said walking around the tractor, now leaking gas. “I knew he hunted, but I didn’t know he was this creative. We gotta be more careful and find him and end this. Cavanah, can you walk? You good to go?”
Cavanah stood up, “Yeah, let’s catch this fucker.”
“Come on,” Adam said, “There’s prints out back, let’s follow em’.”
The men all moved out the back door of the barn and noticed that there were now several sets of footprints leading into the woods, which sat about twenty-five feet from the barn. John Watkins had made five different tracks very quickly by running back and forth, not caring if the footprints were overlapping and going in different directions. He had to act fast and he did, Adam could tell.
“Son of a bitch,” Adam began. “Alright, we’re gonna have to split up. Y’all have your phones?”
They all said yes, and Adam said, “Alright, stay close, try not to stray too far. Only one track will continue on after so long. Call when your tracks end, but keep a watchful eye. Let’s go.” Each man began following a set of sloppy tracks into the woods through the thick snow.
Thirteen
Saturday – 8:13 A.M.
April Watkins had just woken up on her own and felt uneasy. But, she was hungry too, which was probably the problem. She sat up in the bed, looked over at John’s side, and saw that he was gone, which she knew he would be. Maybe it was nothing and just the pregnancy. She placed her hand on the bed where John slept for a second and then grabbed her cell phone and got out of bed. She turned on the light in the bedroom, then in the hallway, and made her way to the kitchen while looking at her phone to see if John had texted or called her. There was nothing there besides some Facebook notifications.
Derby had followed her into the kitchen and stood next to her when she stopped at the counter that overlooked the living room. She looked down at him, smiled, and then decided to send John a text that read, You get anything? and set the phone on the counter. She walked around the counter into the living room and turned the TV on to the news. After coming back into the kitchen, she poured some dog food in Derby’s bowl, which he devoured, and then proceeded to make herself some eggs and poured a glass of orange juice.
She sat at the end of the counter on a stool and ate her breakfast. She watched the news as she ate and constantly checked her phone for a response from her husband. But, nothing came. Finally, she decided she would call him, so she picked up the phone and hit the call icon on John’s name. It connected and then went straight to voicemail. John never turned his phone off when he went hunting; he just turned it down. So she decided she would call Sarah, hoping she wouldn’t kill her for calling so early on a Saturday morning. The phone rang several times and then Sarah answered.
“Hello?” Sarah said, sounding very fatigued.
“Sarah, I’m so sorry to call you this early, but I was just wondering if you have heard from Adam at all? Maybe about John?” April asked.
“No, I haven’t. Haven’t talked to Adam since late last night. Said he’s got some problems going on at work. Why?”
“I don’t know. Woke up a few minutes ago with a bad feeling and I tried to call John, but his phone went straight to voicemail, which it never does. So, now I’m a little worried.”
“Oh honey, he may not have any signal where he’s at. I’m sure he’s fine. And it’s probably just the pregnancy giving you those uneasy feelings. I can call Adam and see if he’s heard from him. You want me to do that?” Sarah asked.
“Would you? That would be great.”
“Of course I will.”
“And you’ll call me back afterwards?”
“Yes, right after I talk to him.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
“It’s no problem. Let me call him.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
April sat there and stared at the TV as she waited for the return call. The news went through story after story about car accidents because of the snow and one hunting accident in Franklin County. That didn’t make her feel any better. It was nearly ten minutes before her phone finally rang. She grabbed it quickly and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, April,” Sarah Hart began. “Okay, so Adam said he has talked to John and is actually with him now. He said that John got a deer, but somehow his phone fell out of the tree stand and broke. But, luckily he called Adam before that happened. Adam just got there and is helping John with the deer. They’ll be home in a few hours, he said. Adam is done with his work problem too apparently.”
“Okay, thank you. That makes me feel much better,” April sighed, relieved.
“Good, honey,” Sarah said in her southern accent. “See, don’t worry. Just relax and they’ll be home soon.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Thanks again!”
“Okay, no problem.”
They both hung up their phones and April gave out a sigh of relief. She looked down at their husky, patted him on the head, and then smiled as Derby enjoyed the rub.
Fourteen
Saturday – 8:33 A.M.
Adam Hart had been following his set of tracks for a while now, but stopped because he saw something on the ground, and had just hung up his phone from a call from his wife. Adam wasn’t sure if they were John’s prints or a decoy, but he looked forward and saw something orange lying on the ground o
n the other side of a tree in front of him. He held up his M4 Carbine, and moved a little faster toward the tree, looked around it, and saw what it was. Adam realized that John had taken off his thick orange jacket and thrown it on the ground.
Adam walked around the tree, slung the M4 around to his back on its strap, and squatted beside the orange hunting jacket. He slowly picked up the jacket to look under it in order to make sure there was no trap set underneath. There wasn’t, so he threw it back on the ground and stood up to look around. He saw nothing except the tracks that continued in front of him and into some thick brush. “Son of a bitch,” Adam said to himself, knowing that John would be harder to spot now that he had his orange jacket off. “Alright John, let’s see how you like this,” Adam told himself, pulled the M4 back around, and stepped forward over John’s orange jacket.
“Oh, Johnny!” Adam began, taunting John. “Just got off the phone with the wife. It seems your lovely wife, April, is concerned. Said she tried to call you but it went straight to voicemail, which isn’t like you.” He paused for a second as he stepped through the snow and looked back and forth in front of him. “So, she proceeded to call Sarah who then called me to check on you, my best friend, and do you know what I told her? Did you hear? I said you’re fine, I’m with you now helping you with your deer that you got, but you dropped your phone out of the tree stand. But, of course, you had called me before that happened.”
“Oh, and your wife thinks you are fine now too, by the way. She doesn’t know what you saw, doesn’t know that you’ve been shot, doesn’t know that you are going to die today in some freak accident that I’m gonna have to explain. So, come on John, just come on out and make this easier on all of us. I gave you a chance, but you followed your damn heart. There’s no turning back now. So, come on, I’ll make it quick, buddy,” Adam paused again as he continued following the set of footprints not knowing if John could hear him or not.
“John, don’t make this harder than it already is. Don’t make me have to use April. I will if I have to, I don’t want to bring her into this, but I will. I’ll go get her and hurt her in some way if that’ll make you give yourself up. So, come on, now, Johnny, show your fucking self now!” Adam finished by yelling out into the woods. He still saw nothing and heard nothing.
Cavanah grimaced once again at the pain from the wounds in his shoulder and upper breast. He also felt the dirt inside his shirt, which was beginning to irritate him. He tried to ignore it and continued on his mission, following the footprints. He also just heard Adam yelling in the distance. Where he was, the trees were very dense so he had to maneuver his way through them. As he did, he noticed something orange just up ahead through some thick dead cedar trees. His shotgun at the ready, he continued his path on the already crunched down snow, so his steps would be quieter.
He moved forward, looking around him, to make sure John wasn’t flanking him. He saw nothing, neared the dead cedars, and noticed the orange article of clothing hadn’t moved. Cavanah still couldn’t tell what it was because the trees were so thick. Was he dead? he thought to himself and then began to make his way around the trees, still on the footprints, until he got to the other side. He then saw what they were, brought his shotgun down, and gave out a sigh. John had taken off his orange coveralls on this path.
But, as with Adam, the tracks went on, this time curving to the left after so far. So, Cavanah brought his shotgun back up and continued following the footprints in the snow.
Lewis was tense and moved quickly through his set of tracks. He held his M4 tight and kept his head on a swivel. He wasn’t about to be bested by a man who didn’t have his kind of training. The trees were once again thick in his area, so he couldn’t see anyone else except Travers, who was following a set of tracks just thirty feet to his left. Lewis glanced over at him every now and then to make sure he was still in his sight.
Lewis’ tracks looked messy to him, like John ran quickly and then ran back over them in the opposite direction. Lewis knew that was exactly what John did and was following fake tracks. Lewis shook his head; he was tired of this slow process and wanted to speed things up. He was tempted to call Adam and tell him what they needed to do, but decided otherwise. He turned his attention toward Travers and then walked over to him through the snow, leaving his set of tracks.
“Travers?” Lewis whispered. Travers turned his head in Lewis’ direction and saw Lewis, who approached him.
“What? What are you doing?” Travers ask, surprised to see him.
“This is bullshit. We need to find Adam and Cavanah and come up with a different plan or move faster than this shit. We’re chasing fake tracks, we need to find the set that are clean. That he only walked through once. Adam is soft and taking his time because he knows this fucker. We need to speed this up and get the fuck out of here.”
“Listen,” Travers said as they walked and talked along the tracks. “I want to get out of here too, but if you cross Adam again he will kill you. I’ve seen him do it before and he covered it up. This is his thing, if he is going slow, for whatever reason, then it’s a reason that’s no concern of yours. I personally don’t think he is. I think this guy is smarter and tougher than we thought, than Adam thought. And if these are fake tracks then we’ll run back into them because it’s just one guy and they will all meet up. But, if I were you, I wouldn’t piss Adam off.”
“Fuck,” Lewis said with the snow crunching under his boots. “We shouldn’t even be in this fu-”
“Look,” Travers said as he looked ahead just a few feet and saw an orange hat lying to the right of the footprints. They both walked toward it, Lewis knelt down to pick it up, and stood back up.
“You think this is his?” Lewis asked.
“Has to be,” Travers told him.
“Was he wearing an orange hat?” Lewis asked, trying to remember.
“I’m pretty sure he was.”
“Son of a bitch. Maybe he’s not as smart as I thought.”
“Let’s go,” Travers told him, and they followed the cleaner looking set of tracks.
Levinson followed his set of tracks. Like Lewis, he did not like any of this, but not for the same reason. He was nervous and did not like the cold or snow. He had on winter gear, but was still cold. He hated it, but he still would do his job. His boots pushed the snow apart as he walked slowly around a tree, holding his tactical shotgun out in front of him. Next, he stepped over an old rotted log that had been dead for a long time and continued.
He looked ahead and saw that the tracks took a sharp right turn around a big tree. He stopped once more, looked around, didn’t see anything or his fellow officers, and took a deep breath. After he saw his breath in the frigid air, he rolled his eyes and moved forward.
“Fuckin’ hate this,” Levinson said aloud. “It’ll be okay, join them, you’ll make more money,” he mocked himself for his decision to join Adam. “You’ll only end up probably getting killed in the woods because of a fuck up. All I wanted to do was pay off my truck, but nooooooo. We’re hunting down the boss’ best-fucking-friend.” He rambled on nearing the large tree and began to go around it. “Fuck the snow, fuck the cold, and fuck the-“
Just as he came around the tree, he saw a thick pair of orange gloves. “Holy shit,” he said, then knelt down to pick them up and looked at them. “It’s gotta be him,” he muttered, then threw the gloves down and reached for his phone in his pocket. But, before he could unlock his phone a strong force landed on top of him and he felt piercing pain on his upper right shoulder. Levinson fell to his knees and yelled in pain, dropping his shotgun. Whoever landed on him and stuck a knife in his right shoulder received an elbow to the groin and fell back.
John had jumped from a large branch in the tree and stuck his Gerber Myth Fixed Blade Pro Knife with a gut hook into the top of Levinson’s right shoulder. Levinson got up, with the knife still in his shoulder, and spun around and saw it was John. As he stood up, he tried to pull the knife out. He gave a painful groan, but t
he knife was stuck; the gut hook was caught on something in his shoulder. He decided to leave it in and began to charge at John.
Just as Levinson began his assault, John did the same - just a little quicker. John tackled Levinson to the ground, who gave out another cry from landing on his now wounded shoulder. Blood was pouring out of the opening in his flesh, especially when he moved, and running down his chest and back and staining the snow red. John raised his right fist and punched Levinson on the left side of his face. John raised his fist again but Levinson, now ignoring the pain in his shoulder as best he could, blocked it with his left hand and connected his right fist with John’s face.
That hit stunned John at first, so Levinson used the opportunity to grab John’s upper arms and get his legs under him. In one quick motion, he flung John to his left where John’s back slammed into the large tree trunk. Stunned again, John sat there clinching his back until he saw Levinson reach for his Glock 22 Gen4 .40 caliber pistol.
Quickly, John got up and grabbed Levinson’s hand just as he was about to aim. The pistol discharged into the air once when John grabbed it, and then twice more as they struggled against each other. Levinson tried to roll to the right, taking John with him. They rolled through the snow violently as the pistol discharged a couple more times toward the sky. They stopped rolling and Levinson tried to knee John again, but couldn’t get the right angle. John moved to his right and began kneeing Levinson in the left rib cage.
“You…mother…fucker!” Levinson grunted with each painful knee to his ribs. Levinson took another quick roll to the right, which caught John by surprise and caused him to lose his balance. He lost grip of the gun and fell forward slightly. Levinson, right in front of him, brought himself up and turned the Glock toward John, who lunged forward and grabbed it once again. But this time he was just a little too slow and the gun fired. A bullet grazed John’s left bicep, taking off a small chunk of flesh. John gave a slight groan of pain, but had to ignore it quickly.
The Hunter Page 8